


My Dear & Sweet Blackmailer

by MistyBeethoven



Category: Agatha Christie's Poirot (TV)
Genre: Blackmail, Co-workers, Coercion, Crushes, Cunnilingus, Dubious Consent, F/M, Falling In Love, First Time, Jealousy, Loss of Virginity, Love Stories, Missionary Position, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Obsession, Oral Sex, Possessive Behavior, Roleplay, Roses, Secret Crush, Secret Relationship, Secretaries, Secrets, Sexual Coercion, Sexual Roleplay, Virginity, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:53:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 19,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22155076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistyBeethoven/pseuds/MistyBeethoven
Summary: When somebody starts sending Miss Felicity Lemon naughty pictures taken of her when she was young and trying to make ends meet, the secretary turns to Captain Arthur Hastings in order to prevent her crush, Hercule Poirot, from discovering her youthful mistake.However, when she soon discovers that her blackmailer is none other than Captain Hastings, himself, Felicity is surprised out of her kiss curled head. When she soon hears his blackmail request, she is even more shocked. A shock that only grows as she finds herself falling in deeper carnal bliss as his requests become more and more erotic.Can she escape the trap in to which she has fallen?Does she even want to?
Relationships: Arthur Hastings/Felicity Lemon, Felicity Lemon/Hercule Poirot
Comments: 15
Kudos: 17





	1. Startling News

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a naughty and dubious, romantic, multi-chapter Lemings smut story. Read at your own risk.

Miss Felicity Lemon's eyes widened in shock as she opened the brown envelope which sat all too innocently on her tidy and well organized desk. It had lain next to the typewriter with which she struggled everyday; a typewriter which had frightened her more than the simple piece of mail had done. Looking at the contents of the envelope now, the prim and proper little secretary knew that she had misplaced where her anger and fear should have truly been directed.

Looking at the photograph, Miss Lemon was presented with the sight of herself several years younger. An unlined and innocent face stared back at her, the long tresses, red but captured in simple gray in the photograph, lay loose on her creamy white shoulders. Lemon's eyes traveled down the rest of the image, seeing her youthful body on full display and leaving nothing to the imagination.

With a small squeak, she jumped an inch out of her chair as she heard the door to Poirot's office open and she listened as the Belgian detective was in fierce conversation with someone, having returned from his most recent investigation. Quickly she stuffed the revealing photograph back inside of its hiding place and tried to resume her usual state of dutiful professionalism.

"But I am telling you, Hastings," the plump detective was stating in exasperation. "Mademoiselle Davies was not telling us the complete truth. The restaurant she claims to have visited that day was closed due to the Chef's illness."

"Oh," Felicity heard a voice which she easily identified as Poirot's good friend and associate Captain Hastings say. "But I thought she seemed _quite_ sincere."

"Hastings! You are always one to believe a beautiful woman," Hercule chided. "Especially when she possesses hair that is auburn, n'est-ce pas?"

Still feeling her heart beating loudly, Miss Lemon tried not to leap up from her seat again when her employer peeked his mustachioed head into her small office.

"Was there any mail Miss Lemon?"

Not one for fibbing, but understanding that Poirot referred to letters to himself only, the secretary did not consider it a lie when she replied, "No."

Hercule Poirot offered her a bright smile before he proceeded to mince back to his main office. Felicity's eyes rested once more on the envelope but looked up hastily to find Captain Hastings staring at her, a small little smile about his own lips.

"Is that letter for you, then?" he asked as he placed his hands inside of his pockets.

"Er...yes. just for me. A magazine," she answered, knowing that now she had lied, afterall.

"I say, it's rather thin for one," he commented but seemed thankfully oblivious to the deception.

"They're cutting down on paper," she replied curtly.

"Oh," the tall, lean man uttered. "Right."

Captain Arthur Hastings then departed from standing in the doorframe to follow his friend and assumably resume their previous discussion, leaving Miss Felicity Lemon alone with her thoughts and the ominous bit of mail.

* * *

Lying in her bed that night, her cat Prints Albert sleeping curled up at the end of it, Felicity could not imitate her small and furry companion's peaceful slumber. The nude photo of her taken years before kept weighing on her mind. How did the cursed item find its way on to her desk and back into her life? And what did the simple sheet of paper enclosed inside with the wobbly and somehow familiar typewritten words, 

_**"** **Someday I will have you like this"** _

mean?

Something quivered in her stomach as she finally accepted the lascivious meaning of the words and desperately knew she needed help before they became truth and not mere threat. She was a single woman, after all, and had neither the resources or knowledge of how to save herself from perverts. That was other than the possibility of carrying some kind of weapon on her to defend herself if need be; possibly an umbrella to stick up the offender's bottom.

She knew that she was being foolish; she was working for the world's greatest detective, Hercule Poirot. He could solve the whole nasty affair in a heartbeat. Still, he was the _one_ man she dreaded discovering the contents of the envelope the most.

She had been in love with her employer for so very long now and the possibility that he would think ill of her if he discovered her youthful mistake was too horrible to contemplate.

How could she tell the man that she admired and loved so dearly that she had fallen prey to a bad decision and a worse photographer when she had been very young and on the verge of becoming homeless? How could she explain that she had been willing to bare her stomach (amongst other things) so that that very same stomach would no longer be hungry and bother her with its pains and embarrassing noises?

No. It was hopeless. She could not tell Poirot. She loved him far too much to risk the terrible consequences.

Her eyes once more enlarging in sudden dawning, Miss Lemon realized that there was someone she could turn to whom she did not care for nearly half as much...

Captain Hastings.

Surely he could help her investigate the mystery of the unwanted piece of mail and in doing so help find the answers and bring her peace of mind as well.

Snuggling in closer to her pillow, the secretary felt a little better, knowing in the morning she would discuss the matter with the Captain and things would be solved and hopefully back on there way to being normal once again.


	2. An Unexpected Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miss Lemon discusses with Captain Hastings her unfortunate predicament.

At the office the next morning, Felicity Lemon waited for the moment that Hercule Poirot would leave Whitehaven Mansions by himself so that she could discuss her worrisome situation with Captain Hastings alone. It didn't take long for the Belgian detective to announce that he needed to talk with a witness and suggest in a highly veiled manner that his good friend's company would be more of a hindrance than an asset. The Captain seemed to take this in his usual good-natured way.

Or maybe he had just not been able to realize that he had been insulted, Miss Lemon thought unkindly.

Seeing him sitting alone in Poirot's office on the settee, however, and reading the morning paper, Felicity approached the man, the brown envelope clasped in her thin fingers.

"Captain Hastings," she began nervously.

"Oh," the tall man said, lowering the paper. "I didn't hear you come in. Is that your magazine then? Find anything interesting?"

Standing before Poirot's closest friend, Miss Lemon felt sudden misgivings about talking to Arthur Hastings but saw no other option. "It _isn't_ a magazine," she confessed. "I'm afraid I am being threatened or some sort."

"Good heavens!" Hastings exclaimed. "How? With what?"

She slowly handed him the envelope and watched as he took it and removed the photograph from inside. 

The look on the man's face was one of shock. "Miss Lemon! Is this you?"

Slightly affronted, believing that she had not aged so very much, Miss Lemon informed him that it was.

"You took a bikini photo?"

The bikini had not originally been in the photo. Poirot's tiny secretary had hastily drawn it on this morning as so as to prevent the Captain from seeing her business and causing her even further embarrassment alongside the knowledge that a complete stranger had seen her completely naked.

"No, Captain Hastings," she replied, peevishly. "I took a _naked_ photo. I covered myself up before I showed it to you."

Arthur looked at it again, the look of regret evident on his open face and Felicity squelched the urge to hit the Captain with his own paper.

"This was included with it," the secretary said and handed to him the sheet of paper with the dirty little threat.

"Well, I say!" Captain Hastings muttered incredulously. "What does it mean?"

Blushing at the same time as her temper flared, the woman spat, "He's making a provocative innuendo, Captain Hastings! It means, he wants to see me naked and..."

Arthur practically flew from off the settee in his outrage. "The swine!" he condemned the pervert.

Feeling slightly better now and more confident in her decision to approach her fellow worker with the sordid affair, Miss Lemon asked him if he wouldn't mind investigating the matter for her.

With a crinkling of his brows and a downturning of the corners of his lips, the man with the striking blue eyes replied, "Well, Poirot is far better at this sort of thing, I'm afraid. Why not ask him?"

Trying to avoid mentioning her feelings for her employer, Miss Lemon forcefully shook her red head. "I will certainly not bring Mr. Poirot into this horrid situation! You must help me, Captain Hastings, and nobody else."

Holding the envelope, the photograph and the piece of paper in his hands, Captain Arthur Hastings gave a confident nod. "I won't let you down!" he declared.

With a comforted nod of her own, Hercule Poirot's efficient secretary headed back to her office, feeling better than she had previously felt and hoping that the Captain would soon discover the blackmailer's identity and save her from a horrible and humiliating fate.

* * *

Over the next few days, Miss Lemon did not ask Hastings how his investigation was going. She dared not broach the subject with Poirot around and she also feared that the Captain would tell her that he had not been able to discern anything from the envelope, the filthy little note or the photograph taken so many years ago.

Often, however, she would catch the man looking at her and he would then proceed to offer her a knowing little wink. She could not tell if the action annoyed her or reassured her somehow. Still, something existed between her and the Captain which hadn't before; a closeness brought about by the sharing of a secret.

When the Captain came into her office one afternoon, while Hercule was once more out on his own, Felicity was surprised and relieved to hear the news that the man had brought for her.

"I found your man," Hastings announced as he sat on her well organized desk, draping an arm across his knee and staring down at her smugly.

On the one hand, the secretary wanted to give the Captain her sincerest gratitude. On the other, she wanted to chastise him for his word choice and swat him from off her desk.

"He's the worst kind of fellow, I'm afraid," the Captain said with a suprising mixture of disdain and sympathy. "It seems that he is quite infatuated with you, has been for quite some time, and this is the only way he can manage to get both your attention and affection."

Felicity hardly felt sorry for such a base person who had resorted to such nefarious and deviant means to garner his goal. In fact, if they had been there, she would have hit them with her stubborn and ill-working typewriter. "Did he give you the negative?" she asked instead of voicing her anger.

"No," Hastings frowned. "He's arranged a meeting for this evening at five. Here's the address. Don't worry, I'll be there to help talk things over."

Taking the sheet of paper with the address, Miss Lemon scowled in dismay. Meeting with unsavory blackmailers hardly seemed like a wise idea. Calling the Yard in seemed better.

As if reading her thoughts, Hastings hastily stated, "He doesn't want the police involved. Said he has more dirty pictures and you'll end up imprisoned as well if they are contacted."

With a heavy sigh, the secretary knew that she would have to handle the whole situation with the Captain's help alone. She had heard about prisons a great deal and did not enjoy the prospect of being sent to one and away from her dear Hercule's side.

* * *

While in the process of closing up her office and preparing to meet with her poison penpal, Felicity Lemon made a disturbing discovery. Looking at her broken typewriter she suffered an epiphany and typed out the sentence,

**_Someday I will have you like this_ **

Although she could not be sure, since the note was still in the possession of Arthur Hastings, she was certain the letters looked the same as the ones in the message which had been sent to her. Horribly unnerved regarding this fact, the secretary left Whitehaven Mansions and started on her journey to meet with her blackmailer.

Along the way, Felicity assuaged her fear with the knowledge that Captain Hastings would be there and by her side.

Arriving at a building that looked halfway respectable, Miss Lemon climbed the stairs, making her way to the room number given. When she knocked on the deceptively innocent door, she heard the Captain's voice telling her to enter. 

" _He's come before me, at least_ ," she thought as she turned the doorknob, her heart beating loudly in her chest, as she went inside.

"Hello," Arthur greeted from his chair in the middle of the room.

Felicity Lemon cast several glances around the apartment. She saw no big swarthy man like she had expected and feared she would. Nor did she gaze upon any small and rat like men either, her other persistent worry. Instead, the only person she did see was Hercule Poirot's best friend, smiling at her warmly.

"Well where is he then?" she asked in frustration.

The Captain sat back in his chair and laced his fingers together on his lap before proudly declaring, "Why, you're looking at him, my darling Miss Lemon!"

Miss Felicity Lemon's mouth fell open in shock as Arthur Hastings smiled deviously at her from his place in the middle of the room.


	3. Wars to be Won

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Hastings informs Miss Lemon how he came about her naughty photographs and what his ultimate goal is.

"You? You are my blackmailer, Captain Hastings?" Felicty asked in a voice which trembled badly from shock.

Never in a million years would she have expected Hercule Poirot's bumbling and somewhat naive friend of committing such a lascivious crime; one which so greatly was lacking in decency and morals. If anything Felicity held on to one hope: that the whole business was rather a joke made in poor taste at her expense and that now that Captain Hastings had finally revealed himself as the culprit it would soon be over. Perhaps it was payback for the tongue lashing she had given the man when he had disrupted her tidy files.

"Yes," he stated. "Sorry to put you through all of that but I wanted to see your reaction, you see. I was hoping with nobody else to turn to, you'd have to turn to me instead. Then I could come out in the open and sort it all out, good and proper.

The little secretary's head was spinning as she tried to fathom it all. Her thoughts suddenly landing on a calm plateau amidst her storm of emotions she asked the Captain where he had come across the naughty photographs to begin with.

"That was a stroke of luck, actually," Arthur Hastings exclaimed, looking quite pleased with the string of events which had led to the discovery of the photos. "Poirot was working this case...remember that bit of business involving the chef whom was killed by the waiter at Chez Nouveau?"

Crinkling her brow, Miss Lemon easily brought it to her mind but could not contemplate how that bit of murder had ended up to the exposure of her supposedly deeply buried dirty little secret.

"Well when we went to question the waiter's fiance it turns out she was having an affair with this photographer that had died only recently. When I mentioned I was a bit of an amateur photographer myself, she gave me a box of his old negatives and the like. She didn't know what to do with them but thought I may."

Felicity scowled. She remembered being grateful when she had read the man's obituary in the paper around the time. She had not expected that God would make her pay for gloating over a man's death by having the incriminating negatives wind up in Poirot's best friend's hands.

"Well, you can imagine my surprise when I began developing them and didn't see trees, animals or stodgy old men but rather you, Miss Felicity Lemon, in all your naked glory," he continued with relish. "There I had been wondering for so long what was under those discreet dresses of yours and now I no longer needed to use my imagination! I could see everything. You were stunning, my lovely. Even now you are still breathtaking and it is my greatest desire to take your breath equally away."

Holding the collar of her jacket protectively closer against her throat, Miss Lemon understood that her previous hope that it had all been a lark had been horribly misguided. The way the tall man was looking at her was in no way humorous, let alone innocent. In fact, the hungry way which his eyes were traveling up and down her short body was no doubt the way in which the Big Bad Wolf had gazed at his Little Red Riding Hood before he invited the girl into his bed and proceeded to eat her all up.

"I shall call the Yard in," she stated in angry defiance.

"Oh and have Poirot find out?" the not so good Captain stated. "I think not...there would be quite the folliwing scandal sullying his good reputation. How was the world's greatest detective so blind to his secretary's past? No. You would never allow that to happen to him. Not to mention the fact that they would probably lock you away behind bars as well for indecency."

"You wouldn't dare hurt Poirot!" Felicity exclaimed in outrage.

"Wouldn't I?" Arthur said looking perplexed. "One can never tell when the heart is involved and I am a man of battle, Miss Lemon: I will win this war no matter what the cost!"

"Win?" Miss Lemon asked, confused by the man's choice of words. "Whatever can you win? My body?"

"Well, yes in a way but that is besides the point," Captain Arthur Hastings said with an intense stare from his striking blue eyes. "There is something else that I am _far_ more interested in."

"And what is that?" the prim little secretary asked in annoyance.

"Your _heart_ ," the Captain answered with a sweet and adoring smile.


	4. Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miss Lemon agrees to Arthur Hastings' terms.

The Captain sat in the chair staring at Miss Lemon and his heart was clearly evident in his large, blue eyes and not just on the sleeve of his gray suit. He was looking at her with so much love that the tiny woman, whom was the object of his obvious affection, that she found herself taking a few steps back and bumping into the door of the apartment behind her back. She suddenly felt in a similar way to as she had felt when she had taken the cursed photographs for the illicit photographer to help get her by: exposed.

"And why would you want to win my heart, Captain Hastings?" she asked, her tone very much like that of a schoolteacher with a student they did not approve of. "You are always flirting with this girl or the next... Always good looking and usually half your age! You have hardly showed me the least bit of interest."

Arthur Hastings frowned, a pitiful little downward curve at the end of his thin lips. "You see, right there is the problem!" he exclaimed. "I've been paying you attention for years now but you're too hung up on old Poirot to even notice it!"

Miss Lemon felt her face burning to the shade of a poppy. To think that the Captain had discovered her scandalous photographs was one thing; to know that he was also aware of her feelings for Hercule Poirot was an even deeper invasion of her privacy. For while the photographs had shown only her body and what her attire usually hid, her heart was a far more personal and private thing; it, above all else, could be used to hurt her in the most wounding of ways.

Not knowing what else to do the secretary only managed to mutter, "I don't know what you're talking about. I do _not_ have feelings for Mr. Poirot."

A bitter laugh escaped from the Captain. "You aren't very good at lying. At least, not when it involves your emotions, Miss Lemon. For years, I've watched you mooning over our very dear and mutual friend. I've seen you prepare his tea and his meals, guard his files with your life and a million other little things that only wives are supposed to care enough to do. I've been forced to watch the way you look at him, wishing it was me instead. You have always been too busy in your own adoration to notice how much I was often looking at you in the same way you reserved for Poirot."

The man looked so sad that Felicity almost felt sorry for him despite the newfound animosity that had grown in her heart towards him.

"Even Poirot doesn't see it, for the most part, which is why it's far more cruel for me to have to witness it. Here the old boy is always berating me for my ignorance...' _Hastings you do not see what is right on front of you,'_ and I may not usually...But your feelings for another man I see crystal clear and it is driving me mad for I want you for myself and I intend to have _you_!"

Arthur Hastings leapt out of his chair and backed the red-head right against the door; both of his hands were placed on either of Felicity's sides, successfully trapping her in place, making his smoky sleeved arms into the bars of her prison. Felicity felt the heart the man purportedly wanted to win beating furiously in her chest as he looked down at her past his long nose, his lean body so close to hers yet never daring to touch it. She thought she saw a bulge beginning in his trousers and felt her blood quicken its pace throughout her feverish body.

"What are you going to do to me?" she asked, breathlessly past her fright.

"It's what we will do to each other," he corrected. "I intend to have you any way I want or else I'll tell the papers just what Hercule Poirot's supposedly demure and reserved secretary once found herself up to. Or maybe I'll just tell Poirot himself and save him the embarrassment. It would give him the time to fire you before a proper scandal. Yes. I think I'll choose that one. We are friends, after all, as you so kindly reminded me."

"You can't!" she pleaded, her deep voice rising in agitation. 

"You should have thought about that before you took those photographs."

"I was young," Lemon tried to appeal to the man's own heart. "I was starving! I needed to survive."

The man was not moved, however. He continued to look down at her in lustful want. "And you have survived. All at Hercule Poirot's belief that you are a good and _decent_ woman. We both know differently now, though, don't we?"

Felicity raised her blue eyes to stare at her blackmailer. Seeing no mercy in his own she lowered her head again quickly. The thought of her beloved employer finding out was too much for her to contemplate. Nor was the thought that she might bring humiliation upon him all by a foolish and hasty youthful mistake.

Not returning her gaze back to Arthur Hastings face, she nodded slowly. "All right. I'll do what you want of me."

The Captain lowered his arms, setting her free. "Jolly good then. This will be our love nest. I'll convince you in time that I am the one that knows how to satisfy you."

A hand with long fingers took the woman's chin in their grip and forced her to look up at him once again.

"You have hidden depths of passion inside of you, Felicity Lemon and I will be the one to make you realize that as well," the Captain vowed in irritating confidence.

In return the secretary shook her head violently out of his grip and glared at him in hatred.

"Never," she promised in heated defiance.


	5. Piqued

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur Hastings requires of Felicity Lemon her first payment.

Miss Lemon waited on pins and needles for the moment when Arthur Hastings would make his first announcement in regards to his plans of seducing her. Day after day passed without so much as a single indication from the man and she would have believed that it had all been a dreadful nightmare of some kind except for the fact that Hastings kept looking at her in that same yearning, smug lustfulness which he had revealed in that horrible little apartment building. Whereas before she had known the identity of her tormentor and the mystery which had existed between the Captain and herself had been an annoying but necessary one, this was the most awful sort of secret and the secretary desperately wanted to let her employer in on it so he could save her.

Once she had even gone into the office when Hastings had left Whitehaven Mansions on an errand for the Belgian detective. It coincided with her delivering Poirot's usual tisane and she had entered the room to find the man with his bald head hanging over his desk, studying papers of some sort.

"Just leave it on the edge of the desk, Miss Lemon," he prissily instructed.

Even after she had done as she was ordered, the tiny secretary waited off to the side. Hercule did not look at her but kept examining the photographs on the desk.

"Is it an interesting case, Mr. Poirot?" she inquired, trying to steady her voice while she summoned the strength to broach the matter so heavy weighing on her soul.

"It is a case of blackmail," Hercule Poirot answered and Felicity tried to suppress a shiver. "A certain anonymous mademoiselle made a most unfortunate mistake of having the indiscreet relations with a man which was not her husband. Now she comes to Poirot to make it better. Sacrebleu! I do not know how foolish some women are to find themselves having fallen into such situations which could have been easily avoidable."

"Y-yes," Lemon stammered. "Quite foolish."

Poirot turned to look at her, a proud smile under his immaculately kept moustache. "I am glad I have under my employ such an intelligent worker whom would never fall so easily into such a trap, n'est-ce pas?"

Feeling her heart both jump and fall from her secret love, Felicity gave a slight nod and hurried out of the door, knowing she could never hope to seek out Poirot's confidence again.

* * *

Two days after her failed attempt at confiding in the detective her rather complicated dilemma, Captain Arthur Hastings told her to meet him again at the apartment. Glaring at the man, Miss Lemon curtly agreed to the time and proceeded to try to ignore him, rolling a sheet of paper into her typewriter. When Hastings grabbed her hand she was startled but refused to look at him.

"It should be rather interesting, don't you think?" the man asked before hopping off of her desk and leaving the office.

Although Felicity Lemon tried to complete the insertion of the sheet of paper into the typewriter, it would not work. The paper crinkled suddenly and in anger she tore it out, ripping it in the process and making her hate the Captain all the more for making her waste a perfectly good piece of paper.

* * *

He was at the apartment again when she arrived, this time opening the door for her himself. 

"Glad you could make it," Hastings remarked as if this was a casual meeting.

"As if I could miss it," she snapped.

The Captain took her coat off from her small shoulders and hung it on the coat rack. Eyeing the room with suspicion, Felicity wanted to get the whole affair over with as quickly as possible.

"This way," Hastings stated and he led her to a room containing a large bed, bedecked with sheets of the finest silk; it looked like a king's favored room at a house of ill repute.

With one swift motion, aided in no doubt from his time in the military, the man picked her up, brought her over to the bed and placed the woman on the silk sheets and started to kiss her ravenously. The persistence of the Captain's lips was enough to steal Felicity Lemon's breath away but she could not return his passion no matter with what ferocious degree of want he was devouring her with.

Likewise, when Arthur reached around and undid the fastening at the back of her dress, she merely lay there not helping him in the least. Having slipped the top part of her dress down, revealing her cream colored slip, the man peered down at the sideways turned face which avoided looking at him.

"Playing that game, are we?" he asked, his voice calm and steady.

She did not reply but kept her gaze turned, blankly staring at the wall to her side and the painting of fruit adorning it.

It was a shock then when the Captain grabbed her slip in his long-fingered hands and tore it. The fabric made a loud ripping sound as Felicity felt the air on her now exposed small breasts. Still staring at the fruit, in particular the apple, Lemon tried to be impassive as the Captain began to hungrily grab her minuscule mountains of white and rub them in his hands. Bolts of pleasure ran through her body from his touch, ones which only intensified as he brought a thumb on each hand to her right and left nipple and began to massage them slowly. Such an incredible sensation coursed from each stiffening peak straight to that private area between her legs that it felt as if the bud there was imitating the swelling of each teat, becoming hard and demanding itself.

"Ohhhh..." she moaned against her will as she shifted her legs from the burning and building pressure.

Arthur looked at her in self satisfaction, so very well pleased with himself, and Felicity hated herself and the body which was suffering such unexpected pleasure. "You like that my darling, Felicity? What do you think about this?"

Quickly, Hastings took her left nipple in his mouth and started to tease it with his tongue, licking it and alternately sucking on it as well.

"Unnn..." she cried out, her hands digging into the silk sheets to prevent, holding on to the Captain's head and pushing it even closer on the nipple she felt lying against the Captain's moist, soft, warm tongue.

The pressure between her legs had become a throbbing ache as Arthur turned his attention now to the right peak, his hand pinching and rubbing her now wet and still erect free teat.

Felicity was rocking her head back and forth violently on the pillow, the drumbeat made of fire still burning in her groin, building and wanting release. Her body began to squirm and her breathing was desperate and laboured.

When she felt close to some sudden action that threatened to claim her whole being yet also promised some kind of paradise, the woman was once more taken aback by Poirot's best friend's next move.

He suddenly hopped off of her, leaving her panting on the bed, trying to catch her breath and tantalizingly unsatisfied.

"You can go and clean up now before you go home. The washroom is over there," Arthur pointed to a room to the right and stated innocently before placing his teasing hands inside of his trouser pockets.

Trying to appear reserved and in posession of herself, Miss Felicity Lemon rose from the bed and tried to walk to the washroom in complete composure even though she felt herself shaken to her core. Once safely inside the room, she locked the door and saw another woman was already in there. With a start she realized it was only her reflection in a large and ornately trimmed antique mirror. She saw herself, her breasts on full display. The nipples were still erect, raw and red from where Arthur had spent minutes suckling on them. The pressure returned between her legs and she moaned at the memory.

She watched in a daze as that other self's hand lifted the skirt to her outfit and dipped inside her clean, white, plain pair of knickers. When it emerged soon afterwards, the fingers were glistening in the mirror, wet with the cream which had pooled inside that most personal of areas.

"No... _never_ ," Felicity murmured even though the evidence to the contrary was covering her fingertips.


	6. Between Your Pretty Thighs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur Hastings pays Felicity Lemon lip service.

It was another few days before Hastings informed his victim that another visit to their love nest was in order. Miss Lemon told the man that it was hardly a love nest but more of a den of debauchery but could not explain the brief surge of excitement which had flooded over her at the Captain's announcement.

She had, in truth, been dreading and wishing for such news from Poirot's friend. Her mind had continually gone back to that evening at the apartment and the way the man had ravaged her breasts to her unexpected delight. Often in the night, she had awakened to the memory, her breath laboured in desire. Her fingers had found her nipples then, possessed with a mind apparently of their own. She had then pinched and played with them, in the hope of reliving what Arthur Hastings had so cruelly and wonderfully done to her. While they had become erect and it was a pleasant enough sensation, it was no where near the bliss she had experienced under the man's knowledgeable manipulation.

Walking to the apartment in one another's company this time, Felicity hated herself for wondering what the dastardly Captain would do to her next.

Safely inside, Arthur sat in a chair in the drawing room and instructed the tiny secretary to take the one opposite to him.

"It was so nice to finally see your beautiful breasts in person," Arthur Hastings crooned as he gazed at her and her black dress which reached up to her slender neck. "You always keep them so blastedly well hidden. Your necklines are too high and it's been driving me mad that I barely see any glimpse of flesh from you at all, Felicity Lemon."

Miss Lemon looked at him from down her beak like nose. "Mr. Poirot wouldn't approve of that much, I dare think; traipsing around his office in low cut dresses. Flaunting my skin off. That would be demeaning to him."

It was true. She had long ago sized up her employer and love. Hercule Poirot was not the type of man to be won over by provocative displays of flesh and femininity. He valued dignity and reserve and she had desperately tried to please him by appealing to this with her choices of attire.

"Well Poirot, as much as I love the old boy, doesn't seem to exist from the waist down," Arthur said in deepest sympathy. "And that's all well and good for some men and women but not for you, my dearest Felicity. You're too much like him in ways but there's something underneath it all just dying to make its way to the surface. You've kept it submerged for too long, I'm afraid, and it's just about ready to break through the water. You just need the proper man to help you do it."

Lemon laughed bitterly. "And I suppose _you_ are just the man, Captain Hastings?"

The man stood suddenly, making a striking figure in his suit of charcoal and his tie of red. He studied her intensely, making her want to squirm in the chair where she sat, before walking towards her, all confidence and unintimidated swagger. Standing before her, he peered down into her eyes boldly, a look she felt dared to meet with an equally brazen attitude.

"I _am_. Or at least I will try my damned best to be," he proclaimed.

With the declaration still lingering on his lips, Hastings lifted her from her seat and kissed her passionately with them, physical proof to make good his promise. Felicity felt the power from his kiss surging throughout her body, making every nerve hum. Her thighs parted slightly as the bud between them began to burn once more. Forcefully, but also with a certain degree of tenderness, the Captain brought her to the floor, where he held her down and looked at her in smouldering want. 

Felicity's eyes never left him as he inched himself slowly down the short length of her tiny body until he was at her thighs which still felt aflame. Arthur Hasting's hands slid under her dress and the woman felt her groin lifting in unwanted anticipation as he pulled her knickers and stockings down in one grab and tug.

" _Don't_ ," she reprimanded herself silently, feeling her clitoris throbbing in response, obviously deaf to her plea.

Throwing the skirt of her dress up, Miss Lemon saw her mound of brunette fur on full display as Hastings viewed it hungrily. He petted it as if it were a small dog or kitten and she struggled not to sway her hips from the pleasure of the caress. She knew her vulva was betraying her however; she could feel her folds swelling from arousal and knew that her blackmailer no doubt could tell from the reddening flesh there that her body was succumbing to the promise of his next move.

Arthur met her eyes as his fingers dipped into her crevice and started to rub the growing bud inside.

"I can see that you're already quite wet, my darling," he stated. "And here I was holding myself back from playing with your sweet breasts so I could feel your first spurt of cream on my tongue. It doesn't matter. There's plenty of opportunity for that."

The fingers inside continued to toy with her angering bud and now the supine woman could not contain herself. She started to move her hips, knowing there was no use in trying to hide from the man the pleasure he was bringing to her. Arthur brought his head to her clothed breast and bit the peak of a nipple he saw rising under her dress. She moaned in pleased response.

"You like that?" he asked increasing the movement of thumb and finger.

"N-Noooo," she foolishly tried to lie, feeling her nipples coming to life and tingling.

As if to prove her wrong, Arthur Hastings took his hand from out of her soft folds and looked at her in unrestrained lust. Felicity Lemon lay there, trying to convince herself that she was not left unsatisfied and that she was truly grateful that the Captain's assault on her was apparently over.

Then Arthur Hastings swiftly moved to her legs, spreading the milky thighs wide apart as he knelt between them. Felicity gasped as she felt her swollen clit exposed by her flesh being separated; it pointed in red fury at the apartment's ceiling. With a ravenous delirium, the good Captain descended on the throbbing bud as if it was the last meal offered to him and the only one for which he truly craved. Felicity cried out as she felt his lips close around it, giving it a suckle before his tongue began to flick at it while it rested securely in his mouth.

She had never known that a man would do such a thing as to willingly want to embrace such a dirty part of herself with that which he used to taste and savor. Now her body was being filled with an ecstasy she had never thought possible as Arthur did just that with sensuous pride.

Her back arched and she saw her nipples standing straight out again as what Arthur Hastings was doing to her traveled throughout her whole body, especially the parts which had previously only brought her shame.

He continued to lick and suck her, his mouth occassionally becoming diverted by a journey to her opening where he lapped up the liquid spilling furiously out. On such journeys, his fingers returned to play with her clit, until his mouth returned and he switched his fingers to her vagina, entering it in order to feel around.

"Ohhhhh...I...I..." Felicity started to try to convey to her lover that sweeping feeling coming over her again; the one which threatened to bring her to some heaven she had never reached or even knew existed.

Arthur Hastings sucked even more slower and deeper and it brought her to the place he had denied her before. Her body started to convulse as she felt the part of her anatomy held in her lover's mouth do likewise, a series of twitches that brought a euphoria to her heart and mind, her vagina clenching around the fingers pressed deep inside of it.

Afterwards she lay there panting, trying to figure out what had just happened.

And what to do to make it happen again.

Instead of a repeat performance, however, Hastings stood and held out a hand. "Come on. On your feet love," he ordered.

In a daze, Felicity placed her thin hand in his and let him pull her to her feet, her underwear and stockings still pooled around her ankles and high heels. Still tingling all over, Miss Lemon looked down to the spot where she had orgasmed for the first time and saw that she had left a small puddle of her body fluid behind on the rug. There had obviously been too much for the man to successfully consume.

"Y-you'd better clean that up," she said, her voice weak and unsteady but still attempting to resume her usual prissy tone.

"Oh who gives a damn?" Arthur Hastings said in irritated passion. Taking her head in his hands, the man kissed her violently. In a feeling akin to being carried away on a stormy wave, the woman felt herself fainting as she absently tasted an unknown flavor on the Captain's searching tongue, realizing before she lost consciousness that it was only herself.


	7. The First Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity Lemon confesses a secret to Arthur Hastings and finds her attraction growing against her will for her blackmailer.

Felicity Lemon struggled out from the blackness of unconsciousness to the bright clear world of full and clear awareness. She was lying on her back somewhere, staring up at a ceiling which seemed vaguely familiar. Something warm was clutching her hand and stroking it. Only after she had fully regained her vision did she recognize the ceiling as the one in the bedroom of Captain Hastings secret apartment. Turning her kiss-curled head, she found the man gently stroking her hand and looking at her tenderly. Felicity propped herself up on her elbows and stared at him.

"What happened?" she asked in a voice which still had yet to regain its own steadiness.

"You fainted," he replied, still stroking her hand. "It must have been from your climax. It happens sometimes after one. The French call it 'la petite mort.'"

Remembering the Captain using his mouth on her and the way her body had reacted with unrestrained pleasure, Hercule Poirot's secretary was suddenly embarrassed and outraged. She tugged her hand out of Hastings' grip. "Stop that!" she snapped.

"I guess, you've never had one as good as that before, I daresay," Arthur stated with a pleased smile.

Felicity's expression betrayed a hidden truth before she had time to stop it from reacting to the man's statement.

Arthur Hastings' eyes widened as he read her like the morning paper he perused every morning on the settee in Poirot's office. "You've never had one at all have you, Felicity!" he exclaimed.

When she remained silent, the dastardly fiend became bolder and made an even bolder assumption. "Good lord! You're a virgin, aren't you?"

Lemon looked away from the man. "I hardly think that that is any business of yours, Captain Hastings."

It did not matter to her that his nose had been in her business only moments before.

"I should have looked while I was down there," Arthur remarked. "But I was having too jolly good of a time. You mean you and that dirty photographer never..."

"Most certainly not!" Miss Lemon hissed. "It was for the photographs only. Not that the grubby handed weasel didn't try though."

She folded her arms from the returning memories of the now deceased pornographer and his attempts to take the photography session to a different kind level. It had been hard fending him off as she had been in a state of undress. But she had, thank goodness, managed to eventually and had left with the payment and her virtue intact.

Only for years later the friend of the man she was in love with to be on the verge of taking it from her.

"I didn't know," Hastings muttered. "This changes everything, I have to admit."

Hope flashing across her soul, Felicity turned to look at her blackmailer. "You mean you're going to put an end to this nonsense, Captain Hastings?"

He faced her, his blue eyes still so damned deceptively innocent. "Oh no! I'm just pleased as punch to get to be your very first."

"You aren't ashamed to steal my virginity?"

"Well," Arthur Hastings stated matter of factly. "You've got to lose it sometime, a delectable woman such as yourself. I'm just honored to be the first and that it won't be wasted on Poirot. Let's face it, the poor old chap wouldn't know what the bloody hell he was doing down there!"

Felicity Lemon's hand shot out and struck the gloating Captain's cheek.

Arthur brought his palm to his face and rubbed his reddening skin.

"Owww," the Captain said with a pout.

* * *

For the next week, the secretary suffered something she had not expected: Arthur Hastings care and concern. 

The Captain continually popped into her office to see how she was doing, bringing her small gifts of chocolates and doting on her, obviously still worried about her fall following her first orgasm. He was paying her so much attention, in fact, that Poirot apparently noticed it as well.

As Felicity was once again telling Hastings that she was feeling perfectly well after what had to have been his fiftieth inquiry into the subject, the little Belgian detective put down the letter in his hand which his secretary had just placed there only seconds before.

"I must ask, Hastings, why you are so worried about Miss Lemon's health!" Hercule asked in frustration. "Does she look ill? _Non_! In fact, never have I seen Miss. Lemon looking so _éclatant_! What has brought this glow to you, Miss Lemon? A new health routine, perhaps?"

The secretary squirmed where she stood, knowing that the sexual encounters she was having with the Captain were the only change to her life recently. Apparently the heat of the experiences was making her seem more radiant. She had been fighting arousal on and off ever since Arthur Hastings had first started to awaken something deep within her. In fright, she wondered if the constant excitation of her genitals was spreading straight to her head and was now easily visible on her face as well.

She looked down to see the Captain sitting on the settee and looking rather smug, knowing he had been the one to have had a hand in her changed appearance. She glared down at him swiftly wiping the pride from off his long face.

"Oh, she's gone into this new form of exercising, Poirot," Hastings suddenly said, facing his friend. "It's good for getting the blood going to all places. I got her into it, I'm afraid. That's why I keep on checking on the old girl. Got to make sure it isn't taking too much out of her, after all."

Miss Lemon wanted nothing more than to slap the man again but her anger soon dissipated when Poirot seemed to not suspect anything out of the ordinary about his friend's explanation.

"Well it is working with magnificence! You are very lovely, Miss Lemon. I may have to take you out one of these days to show the world what a _belle_ _secretaire_ Hercule Poirot has in his employ."

Felicity secretly beamed. When next she looked at the Captain he was silently fuming, having retreated behind his paper once more and looking very sorrowful and dejected.

* * *

At the end of the workday, it came as no surprise when Arthur Hastings informed her in private that they would be paying another visit to their love nest. Still high on her boss' words of praise she eagerly went to meet with her blackmailer whom had gone there beforehand. The bud between her legs was also most pleased despite her anger at it. She longed for another little death again and the Captain's lips upon her body.

When she arrived at the apartment, however, Hastings had different plans. No sooner had she stepped into the drawing room, than the lean man began to unbuckle his belt and lower his trousers. She watched him in repulsion and fright but also a certain amount of curiosity. When he had subsequently lowered his undergarments she was greeted with the sight of Arthur Hastings' fully revealed genitals. 

The Captain's penis was thick and long, an intimidating organ that made the place it was intended to fit inside of her surge and twitch hungrily for its arrival. She had never seen one before in person and she wondered what it felt like; it looked so raw and tender. The balls below it also seemed somewhat interesting.

She found out very soon after that her curiosity was about to be properly satisfied.

"I want you to tease it," he stated.

"You want me to what?" she asked, appalled.

"You've been teasing me for months with your very presence: so close but not close enough to touch. And that show with Poirot this afternoon...you are a tease Miss Lemon. Now I want you to use those same fingers I've had to watch fidgeting with that blasted typewriter for years playing with my cock instead."

The woman knew she could argue. She glanced at the door wondering if she could escape. Still remembering the Captain's earlier threats and knowing that Poirot was finally beginning to notice her, Felicity decided it was best to get the whole business over with as soon as possible and then flee back to the safety of her home.

Kneeling before her lover, Felicity saw up close the man's member and how it had started to rise slightly at her approach and when she had gotten very near to it. She wondered how the Captain went through each day with such a monstrous and clumsy looking thing attatched to him.

"Take it in your hands," he ordered impatiently.

With a tad bit of remaining fear, Lemon did just that, feeling it stiffen further from the touch of her delicate fingers. Arthur moaned and the thing in her hands came to even greater life, swelling and becoming redder. She stroked it in awe, feeling how smooth and soft it was to the touch. Veins were beginning to stick out on its surface like ropes and the woman stared and caressed them.

"Spit on your hands and run them up and down the shaft," Arthur instructed. His head was going back, his eyes closing and his voice becoming husky.

Miss Lemon spat on her hands and then started to clasp the penis before her, squeezing as the now moistened hands slid down the slippery length of the cock to its hairy base.

The Captain thrusted into her touch and she felt a heat begin to burn again between her thighs. She repeated the action several times and when she saw liquid starting to appear at the opening of the organ's mushroom like head she mixed that with her saliva.

"Good girl," the Captain said with a shudder. "You catch on quick."

She continued her work, urged on unexpectedly by the compliment and beginning to play with his balls now also. As the man began to moan in pleasure, Felicity Lemon looked up to see Arthur Hastings in her complete control. Suddenly she remembered his kindness and care for her throughout the week and his sad little face when Hercule had finally shown her interest.

Without knowing she was doing it, Felicity brought her mouth to the leaking and huge organ and placed it deep inside of it. Her lover gasped as she held him between her lips. With a ferocious need she attacked the penis with suckles, kisses, licks and even bites. Arthur began to moan even louder, grabbing her pretty head in his hands. The secretary's own hands went to the buttcheeks on the other side and began to massage them. She moved her ravenous mouth up and down the suddenly convulsing member. When she felt the cock beginning to spasm, in shock she backed away and ended up being sprayed with a spurt of hot, white liquid.

After a moment, Arthur Hastings' seed dripping down her face, she daintily grabbed the clean white hankie from her coat pocket and cleaned the gunk from off her forehead, cheeks and chin. When she could open her eyes again, she saw the Captain standing there, his penis now spent and limp, with a stunned look of sexual bliss written all over his own face. His mouth was still hanging open from where his last cry had escaped.

Miss Felicity Lemon stood and walked towards the door. Standing in its frame, she turned to look at him both with defiance and her own self satisfaction this time. "Here's to your own little death, Captain Hastings!"

She closed the door loudly and headed for the stairs, leaving him to die alone.


	8. Faults and Affections Not Seen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur Hastings regrets Miss Lemon's blind affection for Hercule Poirot.

Captain Hastings was beginning to get on her nerves, Felicity Lemon thought to herself. The man was once more sitting on her desk as she attempted to type out a letter for Hercule Poirot on her still unwilling to cooperate typewriter. It was swiftly coming back to her all of the times the man had actually come to see her inside the sanctity of her office before he had started to blackmail her. Whereas she had once believed that the man was merely bored and had wandered in there because he simply longed for human company or something else to stave off the dullness of the day, she now realized that what had been drawing him there all along had infact been his attraction to her.

While usually she may have been flattered now she could only muster contempt.

She felt Hastings eyes lingering on her face even while she refused to look at him in return. It was annoying enough to have to contend with the typewriter let alone the amorous attention of her blackmailer.

"Do you mind?" she finally hissed at the man in severe irritation.

"Oh, I was just thinking," he stated, looking hopelessly naive as he usually did.

"About what Captain Hastings?" she asked.

"About those lovely red lips of yours," the Captain stated, bringing his finger to them. "And how I've been in there now. It took me about half an hour to get all of the lipstick from off of my shaft, the way your lips were all over it. Practically painted the damn thing! Still it was worth it."

Felicity moved her head backwards and away from her admirer's touch.

Draping his rejected hand now across his knee, Arthur looked at her casually and stated. "I can't help seeing your lips and thinking about it. Apart from your lovely smile, of course. I can't wait until I can look at your legs and think I've been there too. And that lovely bum of yours."

"You are really being _most_ crude," Felicity hissed.

"I can't help it," Hastings said in complaint. "You bring out something in me, Felicity. I used to hear the men in my battalion say the most lurid things and was appalled by it. Then I met you and it all made sense and I simply cannot stop myself. You have turned me into a beast, Miss Lemon. An absolute beast."

"You turned yourself into that, I imagine," she countered, returning to her letter typing.

"No, it was you," Arthur Hastings stated innocently.

"When did this silly infatuation first occur anyway?" she inquired without looking at the tall man on her desk.

Giving it only a moment of thought, Hastings hastily replied, "From the moment I first saw you; with your beautiful blue eyes and that gorgeous shade of red hair. The paleness of your skin only dazzled me all the more."

Miss Lemon tried not to show how the compliments had secretly pleased her. She focused on the paper but her fingers slowed in their pace for a bit.

"But then you started to be so short with me! Your temperament matched your stature," Captain Hastings stated, clearly upset. "I couldn't do anything right. It was always nitpick this or criticize that! All because you had fallen for Poirot of all people!"

"That wasn't it, I assure you," Felicity stated prissily, resuming her former speed of typing now that she was no longer being complimented. "If I find fault with you, Captain Hastings, it is because there is fault to be found."

"Bollocks!" Hastings raised his voice.

"Captain Hastings!" Miss Lemon glared at him in moral outrage. "I will ask you to watch your language or I shall have to insist you leave my office. I will tell Poirot about your bad mouth!" 

"And shall we tell the poor bloke what you were doing with yours just the other day?" Arthur leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially.

Fuming, the secretary glared at the man.

Arthur Hastings leaned back in his former position on the edge of the desk, obviously proud he had riled the prim little woman.

"All I know is that the more Hercule Poirot caught your fancy," he continued, "the less you saw of me. And when you did the more faults you'd find. But what about Poirot's foibles? What do you say about a man who won't eat eggs if they aren't the same size?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Miss Lemon defended her boss and object of her affection. "Hercule Poirot is a treasure among men. He is a rare and completely wonderful specimen of a man."

Arthur snickered. "If you can call him a man at all. He's not interested in you, Felicity. But I _am_."

The confident and yearning tone of the Captain's voice caused the red-head to lift her head to meet the man's eyes. There was a look of pure deep love and passion in them. She felt her lap begin to burn in enflamed heat; the bud that Arthur Hastings had first awoken was coming to life again, stirred by Hastings' lust and love for her. She wanted to break the stare but found it impossible. Fortunately, Poirot returned to the office and this finally gave her an impetus born of fear to look away and at the door where the Belgian detective soon appeared.

"My two favorite people gathered together," he stated in polite delight. "It is a miracle, _non_? And what do we discuss, _mon_ _ami_?"

"The races," Hastings answered, looking over his shoulder at his dear and very close friend.

Poirot's face scrunched together in distaste. "Do not disturb Miss Lemon with matters that do not concern her, Hastings! Miss Felicity Lemon is a _mademoiselle_ of supreme taste. She does not tarry on matters trivial. The Opera is far more in her taste, _n'est-ce_ _pas_?"

Felicity was shocked when the detective's dark eyes rested on her with a secret twinkle. "Why yes, of course," she replied.

"And she would grant Poirot the pleasure of accompanying him tomorrow to see it, will she not?"

Suddenly Felicity felt faint; her heart raced as speedily as the horses the Captain enjoyed watching. It was the joy one experienced when a dream was at last becoming a reality. "Why, yes! Thank you, Mister Poirot!"

Hercule Poirot gave a happy little nod and then left the office with his familiar mince. When the secretary turned to look at Captain Arthur Hastings, still perched atop her desk, she could tell he was not so happy; not in the least. His formerly tranquil blue eyes burned with an angry jealousy and she trembled knowing that soon she would be made to pay for taking their mutual friend so quickly up on an invitation that was clearly intended to be nothing less than a date.


	9. Unsatisfied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity visit to the opera with Hercule Poirot leaves her feeling not as she had expected.

Felicity Lemon waited for the fiery retribution of Arthur Hastings but it did not appear anytime before her excursion with Hercule Poirot to see La bohème. She expected for the man to announce another visit to the apartment that had already witnessed three of the Captain's sexual requests but instead the man seemed to be ignoring her. Although it pleased her, in a way, it also succeeded in making her even more disquietened. What was Hastings up to, she found herself repeatedly pondering? If the man had approached her with the intention of another appointment for hanky panky she would have found herself relieved in a way. She could get the whole thing over with and then go out with Poirot in relative bliss.

Now, however, she was constantly on her toes, waiting for the moment Arthur Hastings would make his next move.

He dropped into her office on the day of the opera, shortly before she was set to return to her own apartment and prepare for the evening.

" _Now_ ," Felicity thought to herself. " _He's been waiting for just this moment. He'll take me there to that nasty little place and he'll have his way with me before the opera. He wants me to sit there beside Hercule with his seed dripping between my legs_."

She was surprised then when the licentious Captain merely bid her a good night, wishing her the best for her romantic evening out with Poirot.

Sitting at her desk, the little secretary stared at Arthur Hastings in suspicion and confusion. The man wouldn't hold her gaze, however, and was starting to leave.

"That's _all_ , Captain Hastings?" she asked incredulously.

He turned around, his hand on the doorframe and looked at her as innocently as a choir boy.

"Yes," he replied. "Should there be anything else?"

"You we'ren't going to make an addition to our _arrangement_?" she carefully phrased the question, fearing their Belgian friend would overhear and begin to wonder what was going on between his secretary and closest comrade.

"Well, as I see it," Arthur said looking off as if his thoughts were hanging in the air, visible only to himself, and if he focused on them they would emerge from his mouth as words far easier. "You've been waiting for this for a good long while. I wouldn't want to spoil it for you."

Felicity had not been expecting those words to come from her tormentor. His compassion made her suddenly feel strange inside, a feeling starting at her heart and then spreading throughout her body from there. It was almost like the physical climax the man had brought her to during their sexual encounter. But this was different and deeper. More powerful in a way.

She didn't like it at all. It made her feel uncomfortable and strange. 

And then he made it even worse.

The cursed fool went and smiled at her.

It was a kind action. A simple and small turning of the lips and she could not doubt its sincerity. Hastings was glad for her to have finally received her wish of a night out with Poirot. Yet there was longing in the smile also. Just as that strange feeling in her heart had surged inside of her body, the Captain's yearning for her spread from his smile into his eyes. And that was where his sadness over the whole affair was now showing. He did not want her to go; it was causing him pain. Yet he wouldn't say so and cause a scene, wrecking her enjoyment and happiness in the process.

She knew then that Captain Arthur Hastings was truly in _love_ with her. Despite his nefarious actions, the man truly cared and this trip to the opera between his love and his best friend was wounding him to the heart that was obviously beating for her.

The Captain kept the smile in place as he turned around and left, leaving Felicity Lemon sitting behind her horrible typewriter at a loss for why she wasn't more relieved.

Or more excited about her upcoming date with Hercule Poirot.

* * *

When the Belgian detective knocked at the door, Felicity Lemon greeted him in her finest black evening dress. She had been saving it for so very long in the hope of such an event. It must have suited her for Felicity noted the look of approval in Poirot's dark eyes before he even exclaimed, " _Tres_ _belle_!"

He offered her his arm and together they walked to the vehicle waiting to escort them to the opera.

She should have been happy, the woman knew. There she was finally arm in arm with the man that she had loved dearly for months. Still she could not get Hastings sad face from out of her mind. He sat there the whole time like a weight on it and she could not shake free from the feeling of guilt which might as well have been another figure standing at her other side and locking arms with her, as well.

Telling herself that at the opera she would feel much better, Felicity offered Hercule Poirot a false smile and tried to forget Arthur Hastings.

It was of no use, however.

She sat in the beautiful opera theater, by her escort's side, unable to concentrate on words she could not understand being practically screamed by strange costumed actors and actresses. Hastings dominated her thoughts more than the drama on the stage. By the time the whole tale was over with she suffered merely gratitude and the desire that Poirot would not question her about it for she would not be able to tell him what had been going on in the slightest.

During the ride back home, she was eternally grateful that Poirot did most of the talking, criticizing the performance to the many ones that he had seen before. Absently the woman wondered how many times the Belgian had seen La bohème before and if anything would completely please the object of her affections. Although she had not been paying complete attention, she had not seen anything very wrong with the staging or acting of the production. But like his off sized pair of eggs, Poirot had found it distasteful somehow.

At the door, as they bid one another farewell, Hercule asked, "The evening was to your liking?" 

"Oh yes, Mr. Poirot," she answered.

"Good," he said. " _Bonne nuit. Faisal de beaux reves_."

With that, and a tip of the hat on his head, Hercule Poirot spun around and walked away in his usual mincing fasion. There was no kiss or soft and gentle touch, Felicity realized. Even the words had been spoken in a friendly but passionless voice. The formerly casted aspersions to the detective's lack of amorous ardor by her blackmailer returned and Miss Lemon shut the door to her residence feeling distressingly unsatisfied.


	10. Satisfied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur Hastings takes Felicity Lemon's virginity.

It came as little surprise the morning following her night out at the opera when Hastings approached her and requested another rendezvous at the apartment. The man had obviously just been dying to push aside his "generosity" and claim her again once her dream night had ended. Only to Felicity Lemon it had not been quite the dream she had always anticipated and her night had been spent suffering much tossing and turning afterwards, trying to figure out just why. The best she could ascertain was that Poirot had been so damn unemotional about the whole affair. She was left feeling more like a spinster sister being brought to the theater out of responsibility than one brought as a real woman with all of the passions and emotions that that fine role involved.

Now hearing the Captain nonchalantly set up another meeting as if it were just another normal occurrence that the day brought with it, she was once again disappointed in the lack of true romance in the world.

"I say, you aren't on the rag or anything?" Hastings asked, standing before her desk, his hands shoved deeply into his trouser pockets.

"No!" she snapped.

"Oh good," he announced looking relieved. The relief was wiped clean as another thought occurred to him. "It's not close to...I mean, there's no chance that you'll get pregnant is there?"

The tiny secretary rolled her eyes. "No. I'm not particularly close but there's usually a chance of that. Especially when you're..."

Her blue eyes became quite round amidst the paleness of her skin as she finally realized what the Captain's words meant. 

The man was ready to claim her virginity.

"You're not serious!" she exclaimed, her voice raising, knowing that Poirot was out of the office and on his way to the Yard to talk with Inspector Japp.

"Quite," Arthur replied. "As I see it, you had your fun with Poirot last night. Now it's my turn. You two didn't... _did_ _you_?" 

"I thought you said Hercule Poirot didn't exist from the waist down," she reminded without amusement.

"Oh yes," Arthur answered looking damnedly innocent again. "But you never know what the old boy is up to...he does manage to surprise every now and then."

Lemon fixed the Captain with her best icy stare. She thought she could lie to him just to steal away his apparent pleasure in being her first but decided against it, knowing that he would be able to tell. "No," she answered. "Mister Poirot was a perfect gentleman. Not like some people I know."

Hastings didn't seem aware of the insult but only beamed happily at the fact that her maidenhood remained present for him to steal.

When the lean man had scurried out of the office upon hearing the detective's return, Miss Lemon attempted to carry on throughout the day with her various errands and tasks appointed to her by her employer. The fact that she was now a virgin but in a few hours would no longer be was a constant thought at the back of her mind, disrupting it's usually well ordered state. The whole thing seemed so cursedly matter of fact, wedged in among her daily routine: Sort out the files, type out some bills, lose her virginity, feed the cat and then go to bed.

Even though she was very reserved and proper, readily adopting an air of logic and room for little nonsense, she had always secretly harboured the belief that her first time having sexual relations with a man would be romantic. She pictured champagne chilling by the bed, Caruso singing from a record player and lying afterwards in the arms of a man that loved her completely and was suave and debonair.

She had seen too much of Arthur Hastings' bumbling ways and dull brain for him to live up to the ideal she had in her head. And while he had already brought to her body levels of ecstasy heretofore not experienced, she was still aghast at giving him what she had been possessively saving for her soulmate.

And in her mind, she was still confident that Hercule Poirot was that man, no matter how unsatisfactory their first date had been.

Dredging through the day half in fright and half in anticipation, Miss Lemon was stepping out from her office at the end of her workday when she saw Poirot standing at the end of the hallway. There was an amused smile below his moustache and a twinkle in his dark eyes.

"That was a magnificent trip to the opera, Miss Lemon. Shall we do it again some time?"

"Yes," she smiled. While she should have been grateful for another chance to make the tedious last excursion more enjoyable, she couldn't help but feel less than enthusiastic at the prospect.

"Hastings has left early again?" the man suddenly changed topics, a frown now replacing his smile. "Do you know where he gets off to?"

Keeping the blush from her face was difficult but she managed enough for a seemingly fine, "I don't know, Mr. Poirot."

He tilted his head quickly to one side and then back. "That is Captain Hastings for you."

"It most certainly is," she replied with a forced smile.

* * *

As she entered the apartment, the first thing which greeted Felicity Lemon was not Captain Arthur Hastings but the scent of roses. Distrusting her nostrils, she gave the air a few sniffs as her hand rested on the door. No, she thought to herself; it was most definitely the beautiful aroma of that most romantic of flowers that was flooding the apartment.

From behind her, a figure gently pushed her inside and she realized it was the Captain, himself, after he had wrapped his arms around her petite waist and nestled his head between where her neck met her shoulder. From the corner of her eye, she saw Hastings' unique profile.

"Captain Hastings!" she exclaimed in surprise.

"Breath that in Felicity," he crooned into her ear. "That is how potent my love is for you: equal to the fragrance of a hundred roses."

He kissed her neck, sending an erotic sensation to the clitoris between her legs and then in one smooth motion removed her coat and tossed it to the floor.

"Pick that up she scolded," feeling suddenly hot and breathless.

"Why? The floor will be littered with more of your garments soon enough," Arthur promised, sending another electric thrill throughout her small frame.

He stepped to the place before her and gently took her hands, leading her backwards to the bedroom where he had decided he would take her. The scent of roses became stronger the closer they neared the room and when they finally arrived, Felicity saw that the bed was completely covered in rose petals of white, pink and red. On the floor, a large heart had been constructed from them also. It must have taken the man some time to prepare the room, for the petals were fresh and not drying, and Felicity became instantly aware that this was why the Captain had left even earlier than normal.

"I-It's beautiful," she commented before she even knew that the words had escaped her red lips.

"I assure you that the rose named after Hercule Poirot is not amongst that bouquet," Arthur Hastings stated as he took her waist in his hands.

The eyes peering down at her were smouldering with desire for her and Felicity found her pelvis jutting forward from the stare and pressing against the front of the man's trousers. The contact setting the man's passion ablaze, he began to kiss her furiously as he backed her towards the bed. Felicity responded, unsure why but telling herself that if her virginity was about to be stolen she might as well succumb to it in order to make it as close to the dream she had once held.

And, to his credit, Arthur Hastings had somehow touched upon that vision without even knowing it. 

Effortlessly, he made her sit on the edge of the bed before parting from her. Kneeling at her feet, he began to remove her high heels and then her stockings. Felicity's dainty fingers went to her burgundy dress and began to remove it. Lifting it over her red head, Arthur was upon her, his lips meeting hers again as he scooped her up and placed her on the middle of the bed. Dressed only in her undergarments, Felicity lay there, her nipples peaks under the thin fabric of her slip as Arthur hovered over her, ripping that same fabric and revealing her small, white breasts fully.

The Captain brought a long finger from each of his hands and started to massage the teats on display in front of him. When they were firm and at full hardness he brought his head to them and started to suckle them as his hands slipped into her underwear and started to rub her clitoris which was swelling and becoming surrounded by her cream.

She moaned but the man took his head from her chest and lowered his body to her crotch where he slowly slipped her underwear down and then off. Parting her legs so they also became bent, Hastings peered at the opening between them and smiled with hungry lust. "I dealt with so many blasted roses today but this bud _here_ is the only one that matters to me."

With this declaration, the good Captain pushed his face into her brown furry mound and began to pay the bud the same attention only moments before bestowed upon her nipples.

Felicity Lemon writhed on the bed in complete pleasure. She brought her hands to her still tingling nipples and squeezed and played with them. Feeling herself close to release she was disappointed when Arthur took his head from her crotch and hopped from off the bed.

"Is that it?" she asked, her fingers still working her teats out of a desperate need to climax and satisfy the growing ache deep inside of her.

"No," Arthur Hastings replied as he started to undress, watching her playing with herself. "But I had to get you ready."

"Ready for what?" Felicity asked, knowing the answer, but playing innocent as she continued to pull on her erect nipples.

"For this," Hastings said, dropping his pants and revealing his large, lifted and angry organ. Its tip was glistening with that strange fluid she had tasted only days before. Felicity squirmed at the remembrance of it and felt her groin catch on fire as it became greedy for the organ to fill her and fulfill her own urgent hunger.

Arthur Hastings started to imitate her actions of teasing her extended nipples with his own erect cock and she watched as the liquid at its raised tip became so overflowing it began to drip on to the floor. Feeling her whole genitals catch ablaze in desperation, the moaning secretary brought her hand to her clit to start to rub it also. In a moment, Hastings was on the bed again, assaulting her breasts with kisses and bites.

"Oh Arthur!" she cried yearningly. "Please...I feel...oh..."

"You feel what?" he asked, bringing his mouth close to her ear, licking the lobe and then sucking on it also.

"I feel like I want to..."

"Want to what?" Another whisper but this time accompanied with a bite."

"Ahhhhhh!" she cried out, arching her back and rubbing into the body above her as he took over her work on her swollen clit, his fingers far better in their endeavor.

"You want me inside of you?"

"Unnnnhhhh.....unhhhh..."

"Say it Felicity."

"Oh yes! Please yes!" she cried out, her desire a need now.

With a pleased smile, Arthur Hastings pushed his swollen, weeping member inside of her. The pain was intense as he tore into her hymen but not any more than the pain of her vagina's unsatisfied lust for the eager penis so tantalizingly near to her. Her eyes watered and she bit down on her lip. Sensing her discomfort, Arthur kissed her face and began to play with her breasts again.

"You're so beautiful," he cooed. "You're so tight around me...oh Felicity this is a dream being emerged in you."

He tested her endurance for a few simple thrusts and Felicity gasped as she felt him moving in and out of her. It was creating an even deeper bliss further inside than his simple manipulation of her clit. Longing for more she started to move her hips, trying to create more of that delicious pleasure. 

"Oh Felicity!" Hastings cried and pumped with more free abandon. 

The secretary wrapped her legs around his thighs, her hands clawing his back and buttocks as their bodies became one, instinctively giving and taking. Arthur's head buried in her small chest, she arched her back again and lifted her bottom off of the mattress as she felt an explosion occurring from inside of her. Once again her vagina began to clench and unclench but this time with Arthur Hastings' cock deep within its grasp.

She was pulling on his hair, angry with him for being the one to have made her body suffer such almost unbearable joy but unwillingly exceedingly grateful too. She felt the penis filling her emptiness start its own convulsions and felt him releasing its torrent into her awaiting womb.

Both exhausted they lay naked beside each other. For a moment, Captain Arthur Hastings seemed too scared to touch her but eventually he found the courage and took her into his arms. Incredibly tired after her sleepless night and the passion that had erupted from their linked bodies, Felicity Lemon fell asleep, completely satisfied.


	11. A Sisterly Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miss Lemon visits her sister.

Miss Lemon sat drinking tea with her sister Florence Hubbard in the student Hostel on Carter Lane that Hubbard ran. Usually Florence was so busy in running the hostel she rarely had time for a visit but today was a rare exception and Felicity enjoyed having an opportunity to talk with her sister or just sit in comfortable silence and not be expected to make useless and irritating small talk. Felicity understood that this moment was completely necessary for her restless soul and the whirlwind of emotions which had claimed her of late, even if she lacked the bravery to tell Florence what the events which had caused them exactly were.

Right now she felt as if she had found the eye of the storm and was content to just sit, sip and enjoy it.

Then her sister had to spoil it all by asking how her evening out with Poirot had went.

How the woman had learnt of it the red headed secretary could not even fathom. Only after her sibling had apparently seen the bafflement in her widening blue eyes had the brown-haired and plump hostel owner smiled mischievously and said, "I bumped into Hercule Poirot down at the market the other day. He told me about it and the _marvelous_ time you two had there."

"Well there's your answer then," Miss Lemon had stated, shifting in her chair. "It was _marvelous_."

Florence set her teacup down on its saucer and fixed Felicity with a knowing stare. "Felicity Lemon," she stated, "if it was so _marvelous_ now why didn't you come through that door beaming and full of happiness? You've been waiting years for this to finally happen: for Hercule to start paying you attention. Why are you not over the moon with joy?"

Felicity placed her cup down now too on its own saucer. She hated the way that her sister had always been able to read her feelings. Of the two of them, she had always been the brighter but Florence had always been far more in tune with her emotions and those of the people around her. This ability was rearing its ugly head once again.

But what could she tell her sister? That her evening out with Hercule had left her unsatisfied? But that her first time making love with his best friend Arthur Hastings had not only completely _satisfied_ her but had also fulfilled her every desire, both physically and emotionally? Could she describe how her body was still desiring him and his skillful touch and eager to please and beautiful organ?

No.

She couldn't.

Even if she did it would only lead to the revelation of her past mistake with the naughty photographs, something she had never mentioned to Florence. At that time, her sister had been in the first few months of wedded bliss. She had tired of hearing Florence's advice for all of her financial woes: find a husband and let him tend to them. Felicity Lemon had always valued her independence and back then the thought of a husband to tie her down had been annoying and preposterous. It was only really after she had met Hercule Poirot that her mind had even contemplated settling down.

Funny how Arthur had been there at the sidelines even then. However, it had been under the notion that he would be standing in the church by Poirot's side, performing the mission of being best man.

Never had she pictured him bringing her to such levels of carnal ecstacy in a rose petal covered bed, however.

"Are you all right, Felicity?" Florence asked, snapping her free from her reverie.

"Yes," Miss Lemon replied. "Just a tad bit tired."

Florence studied her and folded her hands on her lap. "Can I be so bold as to speak my mind?" she suddenly asked.

Felicity met her sister's calm gaze fearing what was to come next. Whenever Florence Hubbard spoke her mind it was either sage advice or foolish nonsense that came out. Still she nodded her consent.

"Hercule Poirot is far too much like _you_ ," the woman began. "You make a _horrible_ match! The whole affair would grow dreadfully boring after a while. It's all well and good for a secretary and her employer but as lovers there should be some fire behind the whole thing. Poirot is no more capable of creating a spark than a man made of snow is. He's too concerned with his little grey cells than the blood that should be rushing to his cock every time he thinks of you."

"Florence!" Miss Lemon exclaimed in shock.

"Now take his friend, Arthur Hastings...there's the man for you, sweetheart! He's got fire inside of him. And he's ever so easy on the eyes. You two look good together and you can tell that he adores you just by the way he looks at you! Any fool can see that."

Felicity Lemon blushed and sighed, wondering why she had been a fool for so long to have apparently been one of the few fools left in the world. Her and Poirot, that was.

"I best be getting back," the secretary mumbled as she stood and picked up the purse resting against the armchair where she was sitting.

As she went to pass by her sister, Florence Hubbard knowing that her sister had been there so often she could show herself out, the woman grabbed her arm. "Give Arthur Hastings a chance, Felicity. You may be surprised but you will _undoubtedly_ be happy!"

Offering a weary and vague smile, Felicity offered her sister one more nod before turning to leave. She did not possess either the strength or heart to tell her sister that she had already given Arthur Hastings a chance, quite a few infact, and did find to her surprise that she had enjoyed it tremendously.

But _that_ precisely was what had left her feeling so utterly flustered, confused and unsure of what to do next regarding the whole sordid affair!


	12. The Roles that We Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur Hastings asks Felicity Lemon for a rather unusual encounter in Poirot's office.

"What's this?" Miss Lemon asked as Arthur Hastings placed two boxes on her desk, having pushed aside the papers she had been typing for Hercule Poirot. The efficent secretary had been annoyed by the casual way in which the man had carelessly shuffled them away but her curiosity overpowered mere irritation. Still she used her crossest tone and peered at Hastings from over her glasses in an attempt to seem severe.

"It's for our afternoon's entertainment," Arthur beamed with his good natured smile.

Felicity's mind turned, trying to guess what the Captain could possibly mean until she thought of the only answer and her eyes opened wide. "You don't mean we're to partake in your nasty little bit of business right here in the office, do you?"

Hastings nodded. "Why not? Poirot said himself that he won't be back till well into the evening."

Her hand trying to lift the corner of the box to see what on earth it held, the woman argued, "But he _might_ come back early and find us."

Arthur's eyes now enlarged but in excitation more than surprise. "Yes, that's what makes the whole thing more thrilling! The chance that we might get caught! I daresay, it must be what those horrible jewel robbers feel when they are pulling a heist!"

Miss Lemon frowned at her lover but her disapproval seemed to go right over his head.

"You get changed into that one and I'll be waiting for you in Poirot's office," the Captain stated as he grabbed the top box leaving her the bottom one. "Now nothing underneath it, all right," he gave one last instruction rather sternly but with a contrastingly exuberant wink.

Felicity Lemon rolled her eyes after he had gone. It made her feel better to do this condescending action because then she would not have to acknowledge the fact that she was excited as well. The thought of what was in the box, plus the chance of having to perform this whole liaison under the threat of Poirot discovering them, was making her heart beat quickly and her nipples tingle.

Opening the box, she expected to find a sexy negligee or a beautiful nightgown or something of the like. She was thoroughly shocked to find the greenish brown uniform of an army Private along with the accompanying hat. Inside of the latter was a note with even more instructions:

**_Make sure to loosen your hair and stuff it under the cap._ **

**_-A_ **

Miss Lemon stared at the item as she started to free her long fiery hair from its constraints.

* * *

Hercule Poirot's secretary stepped into her employer's office bedecked in the Private uniform only to be greeted by Captain Arthur Hastings in his full Captain's uniform. The man made for a stunning sight and she had to stifle a gasp at how debonair and handsome he looked.

"Well," Arthur Hastings exclaimed. "You look quite perfect for what I have in mind."

"And what do you have in mind, Captain Hastings?" she asked with suspicion.

"A fun bit of role play," the man said mischievously. "You are all women but you have hidden it for so long. It used to get me to fantasize about if you and I had met in the Army under a different set of circumstances."

"And what would those be?" she inquired incredulously.

"NO MORE QUESTIONS!" Arthur Hastings boomed, making the little woman stand up straight. "OVER HERE NOW PRIVATE!" 

She quickly rushed over without even intending to, his voice had been so commanding and with no room for argument. Miss Lemon realized it was the way which he addressed those whom served under him. And while before she had never believed him to be a man to warrent much respect, she now knew how wrong she had been. The man could be frightening when he wanted to be.

Facing the Captain, for that was what he was now, they stared at each other in the middle of Poirot's office. The man began to circle around her body, his studious gaze making her feel both hot and uncomfortable.

"I've been noticing something about you Private Lemon..." he began to say.

"And what is..."

"BE QUIET! YOU SHALL ONLY ADDRESS ME WHEN I COMMAND YOU TO!" He shouted at the back of her slender neck. "Say yes Sir," the Captain then more softly ordered.

"Yes Sir!" she said both offended and aroused.

Captain Arthur Hastings did two more rotations around her before standing behind her again. "You are _not_ a _man_ ," he stated.

Felicity was about to reply and then stopped herself remembering the instructions which had been shouted into her back moments before. Feeling bold enough to ignore them, she was opening her mouth again to speak when the Captain grabbed her from behind, his hands pulling her towards his tall, lean body. She gasped as she felt his manhood pressing against her ample ass.

He took off her hat and threw it to the ground, letting her hair fall in scarlet curls about her shoulders.

"I thought as much," he muttered.

Sensuously yet hungrily his fingers dipped under her Private's jacket, his fingertips trailing the skin on her thin stomach up towards her breasts, the nipples now standing on edge from his touch that had sent ripples of pleasure throughout her small frame. In a violent motion he suddenly tore open the jacket from the inside out and Felicity watched as the buttons flew and scattered everywhere, including on to the chair close by her.

Arthur Hastings began to toy with her breasts then, pinching each extended teat and making her wriggle against the erection pressed against her from behind.

"What are these Private?" he whispered sinuously into her ear, his hot damp breath feeling ever so good against the skin of her earlobe. "These are breasts, aren't they?"

She moaned as she felt him give each swollen nip a tug.

"ANSWER ME!"

"Yes!" she cried out.

"You thought you could sneak into the army without us becoming aware that you were a woman, did you?" the Captain asked as he continued to play with her chest. "Well, you might have fooled the others but you didn't fool me," he cooed menacingly. "I saw all along the beauty you tried to hide: the sweet femininity."

His hand was crawling into her pants then to find her already swelling bud and to toy with it too, making her hips swivel and her mind go blank with ecstacy.

"I must admire your desire but there are better ways to serve your country," he informed, licking and then biting down on her wet earlobe.

"How...how is that?" Felicity tried to demand past her mind numbing bliss.

Arthur Hastings smiled. He took the hand from out of her Private uniform's trousers, grabbed them at the edges and pulled them swiftly down. The Captain bent over her as he bent her forwards so her hands rested palm down on the chair cushion. His cock fully erect and hard, dipped ever so lightly into the crevice between her buttocks. His hand found her vagina and dipped two fingers inside to feel around. Felicity shifted on her feet, biting her lip so he wouldn't know how much she liked it.

"With the most _private_ part of yourself, Private," Captain Arthur Hastings announced before thrusting into Felicity Lemon from behind.

The secretary cried out in pleasure, no longer able to distract herself with her bottom lip. Hastings was grinding into her from behind, his full length sliding in and out of her opening and hitting her clitoris in the most delightful way imaginable. She squirmed against him, rubbing the soft flesh of her bum against his groin. She wanted his seed, wanted to make him come. It was as if her womanhood was now hungry for it. So she was sorrowfully disappointed when he removed himself from her while they were both without climax and he was woefully unspent.

"STRIP FOR ME FELICITY LEMON!" he demanded then. "ASSUME THE POSITION OF THAT DISGRACEFUL AND WONDERFUL PHOTOGRAPH!"

All need and desire, the woman began to tear off the uniform from her body. Her fingers would not perform the orders of her mind fast enough and Hastings only watched her calmly, frustratingly not helping her in her task.

Completely exposed, Felicity knelt on the carpet. She struck several poses to entice him to claim her, unashamed with the blatant display of her body's need for him now. She showed off her round, plump bottom and her small white breasts with the nipples now red and raw. She parted her pretty legs and showed off the dripping and red flesh between them also.

"No," Hastings said, his voice hoarse with his own desire. "Just like in the photograph."

Swiftly, Felicity Lemon went to her knees and thrust her chest out. With a roar, Arthur Hastings knelt in front of her. He grabbed a handful of her pretty red locks and looked down into her face as her head was tilted upwards. "I told you I would have you like this," he declared triumphantly.

With a sneer, Felicity crashed her lips into his and they fell together onto Poirot's carpet. The Captain was between her legs, pumping into her as she ground her crotch into his.

"Oh yes, Arthur!" she was crying out. "Yes! YES!"

They came in unison all sweat and their bodies' liquid covering the area on their now completely satisfied genitalia.

Felicity Lemon fell back on the carpet, panting and trying to find enough air for her lungs. Arthur ran his hands over her tiny body. "You are beautiful!" he complimented lustfully.

She looked up at him as calmly as she could feign as his cock still lay now spent inside of her. "We'd better get decent before Poirot comes back," she primly commanded.

* * *

The Belgian detective was just entering his office as Hastings was placing the Private uniform back in its box and Felicity was straightening one final kiss curl back into place.

"Why Hastings!" Poirot exclaimed mincing over to see the box and its contents. "You have brought a soldier's uniform to the office!"

"Yes," Hastings replied.

"But the buttons have come loose?"

"Oh that! Yes. Darn things are always popping off. Bad craftmanship."

"Perhaps too many sweets," the short man hypocritically remarked. "But why have you brought it here?"

"Oh Miss Lemon wanted to see one," the Captain lied ever so casually. "One of her cousins is thinking of enlisting."

"I did not know this!" Hercule Poirot stated rather testily and turned to his secretary.

"I...I hadn't told you before," she stammered.

"Ahhh well," her employer accepted the explanation easily. "We must have a tete et tete soon. Infact there is something I need to ask you about, Miss Lemon," Poirot stated charmingly. "It is of the gravest importance. Will you have lunch with me tomorrow?"

"Why...yes," Felicity said, a plastered smile on her face as she felt Arthur Hastings seed dripping slowly down her thigh.


	13. Hate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hercule Poirot extends to Miss Lemon an offer that makes her realize her true feelings.

Felicity Lemon hated Arthur Hastings.

She knew this for a fact as she prepared to go out with Poirot for their luncheon date. Choosing the right dress to make herself appear attractive, the little secretary could once again not find the appropriate amount of joy that she believed was due for the occasion. There was Hercule Poirot, the man she had loved for an incredibly long time, desiring to take her out and discuss some important matter with her and all she could think about was Captain Arthur Hastings! It was really intolerable and unforgivable of the man to have caused such a great upset to her usually well ordered mind.

Finally joylessly deciding on a demure dress of sky blue with a white cotton accent at the neck, which was pleasant enough for an afternoon outing, Miss Lemon went to work also wearing her usual professional demeanor. It was on the inside where her emotions were in turmoil all except for the apathy she felt in regards to eating a meal with the plump little object of her affection.

Walking into Poirot's offices at Whitehaven Mansions, she tried to keep from her mind images and the associated sensations of her last sexual encounter with Hastings. Seeing him looking so handsome in his uniform, and the reckless way they had fallen to their passion on the familiar rug, made the heart beat both loud and fast behind the blue dress she had chosen in frustration. She could not look at the floor the same way and dreaded bringing Poirot his usual tisane. 

Walking across the space in the office from the door to the detective's desk, she felt that her gait was odd and would be noticed, effected in part by the swelling between her legs from unwanted sexual recollection. She cast a look in Arthur's direction as he sat back on the settee again, not reading this time. The glance was meant to be bitter but felt only yearnful against her intention.

"Why that is _c'est robe tres bien_ , Miss Lemon!" Hercule Poirot exclaimed. "You will make Poirot the envy of all the patrons in the _restaurante_ this _l'après-midi._ "

She wanted to thank him in the most gracious way she could think of but found only a curt "Thank you," passing out from her throat. The dress was sensible and modest and was everything that would please the Belgian's polished and respectable tastes. In her mind, however, she was already envisioning what naughty thoughts Hastings was conjuring and these interested her suddenly far more than Poirot's simple and wholesome compliments.

"Was it something I said, Hastings?" Felicity heard her employer asking as she stomped out of the room.

"Well maybe you should have been a _tad_ more enthusiastic," she heard her tormentor remarking and it only infuriated her all the more that the Captain was actually trying to _help_ her!

"The nerve!" Lemon spat as she sat down in the chair behind her arch enemy of a typewriter and began to not only hit the keys but practically punch them.

* * *

Noontime finally having appeared, Hercule Poirot and Miss Felicity Lemon arrived at the sweet little corner tea shop where Poirot insisted on ordering for the both of them. It bothered her slightly but also was a minor relief. She did not particularly feel hungry and the thought of perusing the menu was a tedious task.

As they ate small sandwiches made of veal and chicken, Felicity felt in a hurry to get the whole meal over with. Listening to Poirot's one sided conversation was growing tiring. He merely was reliving the many past cases he had solved; ones that she had typed up the information for ages ago and filed safely away, making her already quite aware of them.

"And what did you wish to speak with me about, Mr. Poirot?" she finally asked, interrupting him from rambling one second more about Farley's Pies, a murder she had helped him solve, he seemed to have forgotten, by hanging out of a window to see a clock.

Poirot halted suddenly and offered her a kind, sweet smile. "I am not the young man that I was in the past...when one finds that time has passed and that what time is left is growing shorter, one considers doing things never contemplated before, _n'est-ce pas_?"

She nodded. It sounded as if Hercule was about to ask her to set about arranging his funeral.

"What Poirot means to ask, Miss Lemon, is if you will extend to him your hand in marriage?"

Her jaw just about dropped open and hit the table. She had never thought that the day would come which would find the object of her affection proposing to her.

And she had never imagined it being done in so passionless and bloodless a way.

"I...I..." she stammered. "I don't..."

" _Non, non, non_!" Hercule Poirot responded, holding up his hand. "You must think about it. Give it time. Now _pardonne-moi_ , Miss Lemon, but affairs of business have called. If you could return to the office while I stay here to meet with a very important witness to my current case that would be most appreciated."

Adding insult to the whole affair, Felicity Lemon realized that Poirot had sandwiched his marriage proposal in between a morning spent at the office and a rendezvous with some stranger. As calmly as she could, the red-head placed her napkin on the table, bid him a farewell and started back towards her place of work where several letters were waiting to be typed.

Walking away from Hercule Poirot and his blastedly polite marriage proposal, Felicity knew that she could no longer feel for her sweet Belgian friend as she once had fooled herself into believing that she had. When she had first met him and come under his employ, he had impressed her with his intellect and also with the fact that he was so much like her in so many ways. The perfect symmetry of them entranced her. Now she could clearly see why:

He could perfectly fit inside of her life with the least possible amount of disruption.

Felicity knew that if she married Poirot she need not fear him causing too many of the changes she feared to her daily routine. Ever since she had taken those naughty photographs years ago, the ones that Arthur Hastings had stumbled upon, she had feared any more unexpected occurrences and gradually become obsessed with everything being under her control and just so. No more would she ever be made to feel vulnerable and weak again, she had vowed.

And it had worked out that way for a while. All until the day that the Captain had started his unsavory blackmail scheme.

Then Felicity Lemon understood everything had fallen apart. He had caused one fracture in her orderly existence which had spread until it became like the veins she had often stared at on the back of her grandmother's hands.

But veins carried blood throughout the body from the very heart itself, causing life to be well lived. Just as Arthur had in like fashion caused her own heart to beat and then race and for her life to suddenly become worth living again after having lived in its frozen and reserved state for too long.

Then the thought suddenly occurred to the woman that she was being silly for even thinking that her mind and heart could be kept as tidy and in place as her desk. God did not make the human soul to work in the same fashion as a work office. He had His own designs for that and it rarely if ever ran as smoothly as His creations desired. Love was messy and often unplanned. It swooped down as a falcon did with whatever small animal had stirred its hunger. Love was not a desk nor was it the files she kept constantly organized and revised. Arthur Hastings had known what love was all along. It was that soft gentle seed which grew into a passionate desire which would not adhere to rhyme or reason. It was pain and all of the little moments in between that helped you discover whom you really were underneath the mask that you put on because you simply believed that it pleased others.

Love was what Arthur felt for her.

And now with a feeling like the circus men must have suffered when they foolishly allowed a cannonball to be shot into their chest, Felicity knew that it was what she felt it for him too.

Felicity Lemon _loved_ Arthur Hastings.


	14. Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miss Felicity Lemon declares her feelings to Captain Arthur Hastings.

She was not a runner. Her footwear being high heels would not have allowed for her to be in that instance even if she wanted to. Still Felicity Lemon walked with the greatest speed available to her back to Whitehaven Mansions and hoped that Arthur Hastings would be there waiting so she could confess her feelings to him without the intrusion of Hercule Poirot being there.

Throwing Mr. Dicker, the lecherous doorman, a scalding gaze as she made her way to Poirot's apartment, Felicity quickly bustled inside and shut the door behind her. She could not wait but was so desperate to make sure that her love was there that she called out his name before the door was even closed all the way.

"Arthur!"

To her relief the tall, thin Captain soon appeared, emerging from Poirot's office, and stood at the end of the hallway.

"Felicity?" he asked, noting the look of brightest joy on her pretty red-head.

"Poirot proposed!" she announced, blurting the words out and then unable to finish, finding that she needed to catch her breath after having rushed there.

"Oh," Arthur said and looked positively wretched, mistakenly believing that the woman's joy was over this fact. "I'm sure that you'll be very happy together...you don't need to worry about me...I don't fool around with married girls. Especially not when they are married to my best friend."

Seeing the man's sorrow Miss Lemon was moved but felt the urge to tease him for the whirlwind of emotions that he had been putting her through for the last few weeks.

She straightened up against the door. "Awfully sensible of you," she said in imitation of her most brittle tone of voice.

Arthur looked at her longingly. "But I want you to know that I will always love you, Felicity Lemon! You are the only woman for me in this world and I'm thinking seriously about running off and joining the monkhood without you."

"Well that most certainly, on the other hand, isn't sensible at all, Arthur, Hastings," she said, traversing the length of the hall to stand right in front of the man.

"It isn't?" he asked, his blue eyes meeting her own similarly blue ones.

"No," she said, removing her gloves.

With confidence, the secretary used one hand to undo Hastings' belt and fly and with the other she dipped it inside of his underwear to grab his sleeping cock and squeeze it. "And put this wonderful penis of yours to no use? What a tragedy and a sin against the very God you would be serving if you did! Why I'd better just tell Mr. Poirot where he can file his marriage proposal and keep this marvelous member successfully in operation."

Arthur's eyes widened in both happiness and delight as he both took in her words and found himself becoming hard from her touch. "Really?" he said, his voice becoming husky.

"Yes," she replied with the gentlest, warmest and most loving of smiles.

Feeling her lover's cock stiffening and practically leaping up for joy in her hand, Felicity began to run her palm up and down its length. At first she did it slowly but reading the expression of brazen want on Arthur's face she moved her hand faster, still applying the pressure to it every now and then.

"We really shouldn't," Hastings said, his voice contradictory with its thickness which betrayed his growing lust and want. "The old boy may be home soon!"

Felicity moved towards his ear and standing on the tip of her heel whispered, "Poirot had to meet with a witness...besides didn't you teach me that makes it all the more fun?"

The man's breathing was becoming laboured and the woman felt her hand becoming wet as he leaked forth his first bit of precome. She leant back to meet Arthur's eyes again.

"I love you, Arthur Hastings," she confessed honest and true. "I have come to love you just as you wanted me to."

The swollen cock set out another drip of fluid at her words before Hastings hungrily took the little secretary into his strong arms and began to kiss her. He lifted her from off of the floor and placed her with her back against the wall. Slender, skillful fingers still played with the dripping, wet penis in their hold, pressed between the two lover's bodies, until the man urgently grasped the wrist belonging to them.

"Put your hands around my neck, Felicity," Arthur instructed and she did just that.

"Now your legs about my waist," came the next command and like a soldier following their commanding officer's lead, she did that as well.

Felicity felt herself resting against the wall and Arthur Hastings as his long fingers disappeared up the skirt of her dress and found her undergarments. He ripped them off with a force that made her gasp and she watched as he tossed the now useless things to the floor in front of the door to Poirot's office. Hastings kissed her ardently as he repositioned her body so that she felt his demanding and anxious penis placed at her opening. With a careful but quick shove he was inside of her.

The hands that were still about the man's neck dug into his clothed back then as Hastings slammed both of his hands to the wall on either of Miss Lemon's side and began to thrust upward.

Felicity felt her clit being struck from each of his movements and wanted to cry out from them but bit her bottom lip instead, tasting her lipstick. She could not risk Poirot's neighbours overhearing incase they told the detective and complained. Guessing the way that her mind was working, Arthur brought his mouth to hers and helped her remain more silent by kissing her violently.

She wriggled her crotch in appreciation against her lover's insistent groin, knowing that now Arthur Hastings' erection was also holding her wonderfully in place and she need not worry about slipping down the wall. Matching his movements the two made frenetic love, as their lips remained similarly locked so as to stifle their cries.

Quiet as they were, however, they had become so lost in one another that they missed hearing the door opening until it was too late. Eyes dazed with bliss, mouths framed with red skin from the enthusiasm of their kissing and their bodies locked together, Miss Felicity Lemon and Captain Arthur Hastings turned to see Hercule Poirot standing in the doorway. The little, round Belgian was staring at them with his dark eyes but his face was blank and both Felicity and Arthur took his expression as proof of the shock he must be feeling to have discovered his best friend making love to his would be fiance in the very hallway of the place where he both lived and conducted his business.

"Look...we can explain Poirot!" Arthur Hastings exclaimed and Poirot's eyes landed on him still without emotion.

"You see," Felicity stated, trying to keep the ecstasy out of her voice as she still felt Hastings buried swollen and deep inside of her. "We love each other."

Hercule Poirot gazed at her next and his face as unreadable as before. Then suddenly his features relaxed and he bounced his eyes back between the Captain and the secretary.

" _Rendre grâce à Dieu_!" he exclaimed. "I believed you two would never see _lumiere_! Poirot was afraid he would actually have to walk down that aisle before you both came to your senses!"

Realizing that her employer's attention had been all a ruse to make her realize her feelings for the Captain, Felicity meant to unleash an few nasty words at the arrogant detective only to have Arthur move a bit inside of her and a pleased little moan escape instead.

" _Oui_!" Hercule stated. "More of that might have saved us from this _situation_ _embarrassante_! I would have heard, understood and need not have entered and intruded this passionate moment d'amore!" A wide smile claimed Poirot's face. "Nevermind! _Mon amis_ carry on! Poirot will return in an hour! Do so as you please! You have my ultimate blessing!"

And with that the Belgian detective closed the door to give the lovers their peace. At the start they only looked at each other in dumbstruck amazement. Then they started to laugh in unison. Very soon the shaking of their bodies reminded them of the wild moment of passion their friend had interrupted and Felicity started to call out loudly as Arthur resumed his thrusting.

Among her cries, her body clenching wildly the furiously spilling penis surrounded by her wet and aroused tunnel, was once again the confession that Arthur Hastings had longed to hear for so long:

"I love you, Arthur Hastings! Now and forever and for always, my dear and sweet blackmailer!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Finished! Felicity/Arthur deserved a completed multi-chapter romance and I hope that you enjoyed it! :D <3


End file.
